


Unposted

by JulyStorms



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-20 23:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2446964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulyStorms/pseuds/JulyStorms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gelgar writes a letter home that he knows he'll never post.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unposted

**Author's Note:**

> Glitch drew me a lovely little Inktober piece for this 'fic, which you can find [here](http://glitchikinnsblog.tumblr.com/post/100476751832).

There's a reason Gelgar never likes to get drunk alone, and this is it.

Yeah, he's got no problem with  _drinking_ alone, but getting _drunk_ is another story entirely, and when that happens, when his mind starts to get a little fuzzy, when things start to sound like a good idea that he's convinced himself sober every day that are horrible ideas, he always ends up regretting something.

Tonight it's writing home that sounds like a great idea.

Even drunk he knows it's not actually a good plan; he just desperately wants to do it, wants to say something, wants to--he's not sure.

So he sits at the little desk on his side of the room, pulls out a piece of paper, and he tries to write. The first attempt ends with the first word too thick with ink, and the second he writes the recipient's name too large, and the third his thoughts are too jumbled to really make any sense.

The fourth draft is his terrible final one, and he knows by this point that he's not actually going to send it; he's just being his usual lonely drunk self--how he always sort of acts when he's drunk and not able to play off his feelings like they don't mean anything. It never happens when he drinks around other people, but nobody has time for him today, and he's okay with that. He hates relying overmuch on other people anyway, and he feels it more strongly tonight; it's for the best that everyone's plans excluded him, because he's a little afraid that he's hit a new low, and that, even in front of the others, he'd slip up and be _that guy_ —the guy who brings everyone else down.

It's a short letter when he finishes it, and it's full of spelling errors and mistakes; there are crossed-out lines and blots of ink on the page. He'll never send it but he needs to get his thoughts out in a safe way, needs to do anything to keep himself in his room where nobody's gonna find him and start making assumptions.

 _DAD,_ the letter starts out.

He writes only, in a sloppier version of his regular handwriting, which is blocky and all-caps:

_I FUCKD UP ~~&~~ AND IM SORRY. ~~PLEZE~~ ~~PLESE~~ PLEESE LET ME COME HOME._

He wads it up when he's done and leaves it on the desk, puts his head down, tries to figure out why he'd bother even considering writing something so dumb. He knows the reason, though; he knows it deep down. He was a goddamn idiot when he was a kid. He was the oldest son and he was also never particularly smart. He blew off his education because he was too stupid to realize what it was he was doing. He's literate, at least, but his writing is only barely tolerable even after all these years.

He tells people he joined the military to try to prove something to himself, but the reality is that he hadn't had a choice. He's good at his job—he's proved that to himself, at least, and it's one of his better qualities: something he can be proud of even when he's drunk and he feels like the world's let him down.

But tonight he's lonely and he's afraid because at the end of the week they're going on another expedition, and he doesn't want to admit to anyone that these things frighten him; it's stupid because everyone else is frightened, too, and he _knows_ that, but they all put on a brave face like there's nothing wrong, like their insides aren't quivering, like they're not afraid of never coming back. It's all one big unhappy masquerade.

And he's sorry for being a goddamn idiot child, even though he's good at his job and things have, for the most part, worked out. He's not even sorry that he joined the military. What he is sorry for is what he's lost, and he's lost more than his family by being an idiot. He's not welcome home anymore even when he visits, because things will always be tense between him and his father, and his mother's always going to be in the background covering his little brother's ears (even though his brother's damn well grown by now); he's lost that safe sort of place that's supposed to come out of _having_ a family, and he thinks he's sorrier for that than anything.

It's pathetic, really, and he knows it. Some of the others don't even have family because their family's dead, and he's sitting at his desk late at night, drunk off his ass feelin' sorry for himself like the selfish piece of shit his parents know him to be.

Henning finds Gelgar an hour later, after he's had the chance to uncrumple his letter, after he's taken the time to smooth it out on the desk. It's okay if Henning sees him like this, because Henning'll never tell anyone about it; Henning's a good guy, the sorta person who can be counted on to keep your secrets because he knows exactly how much damage it'll do to you if they're leaked, and the last thing Henning would ever do is purposefully hurt another person.

That's why Gelgar likes him, doesn't mind sharing a room with a guy whose personality is so completely different from his own. Henning won't let him down, won't tell the others about all of the times he's found Gelgar drunk and confused/scared/crying over something. It's a relief, but it also makes him feel guilty, and when Henning tries to help him to bed, Gelgar spends half the time apologizing for being a miserable sad sack.

Henning tells him it's fine, of course, because that's just the sorta person Henning is, but Gelgar's gotta apologize anyway; he's gotta make things right _here_ because he can't make them right anywhere else.

"You shouldn't write home when you're like this, you know," Henning tells him—pulls up the goddamned blankets for him and tucks him in like he's a little kid.

It makes his eyes sting and he tries to tell himself not to cry even though he wants to because Henning's being too nice. "This is home," is what he manages to say, though, and he's not sure it makes any sense to Henning, but it makes sense to him.

The ugly barracks of HQ are his home, now, and his squadmates are his family. The old Gelgar—the stupid one, the child he'd once been—well, family hadn't meant enough to him, but the newer version of himself… He'd die before he'd let anything happen to a member of his family. He tries to tell Henning that, but he can't get the words out, and eventually he gives up the endeavor, head falling back against his pillow.

"Hey, man," Henning says, patting his shoulder awkwardly, "it'll be okay. Better in the morning, yeah?"

"You do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Take that letter'n…burn it," he says, softly, staring up at the ceiling.

"Of course," is what Henning says, and Gelgar knows that letter's safe with Henning.

Even Lynne can't convince him to show her what's in it; nobody'll ever know exactly how stupid Gelgar is—nobody but Henning anyway, and Henning doesn't judge because he's got his own secrets.

 "You should sleep this off."

"Yeah." He knows it'll be better in the morning. He'll be back to his usual self—irritating the heck outta Nanaba while he lets Lynne run circles around him; he'll even feel better about the stupid things he's done in his life when he's eating breakfast in the mess hall surrounded by his squad family. "I'll—thanks, man. 'Precciate it."

Most people would probably lecture him for getting drunk alone, for feeling sorry for himself when there're other people hurting out there worse than he is, and over recent events, but Henning just blows the candle out by the desk, says, "Anytime," and leaves to burn the letter, closing the door softly behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> In other news, I always get carried away. This was supposed to be a response to an RPing meme where the character writes a letter to [someone]; the request was for Gelgar to write to his father. I haven't really had the chance to dig into Gelgar's past, his reasons for joining the Survey Corps, his relationship to the quietest and most forgotten person in his squad (Henning), or the negative impact of alcohol on his life.
> 
> While I imagine that Gelgar's normally a pretty upbeat guy, a lot of his confidence is faked and, kind of like Auruo, he's not nearly as egotistical as he comes across in conversation. It's not that he's deeply insecure or anything like that; on the contrary, he's pretty grounded in how he views himself; he can admit his faults and he knows his good points, too.
> 
> In this case, getting drunk by himself, especially when he's already kind of sad, and has letters from his family in his desk (they write him out of courtesy)? Well, it's not the best idea he's ever had. But it happens, sometimes, and Henning's a good sport about it.
> 
> This may not have entirely answered questions regarding Gelgar's past, but it's not supposed to. Only Henning really knows anything, and even he doesn't have the whole picture. (So you don't get the whole picture, either.)


End file.
